Sometimes I find that you do meet people worth meeting, but almost never.

A horrible start for a story I am sure, especially a story about people meeting, but maybe it isn't too bad. Certainly it isn't inaccurate. I delete it and again find myself faced with a blank screen, because blank screens are the best kind to stimulate thought. That was a lie.

I pick up my coffee only to find it empty.

I hate my job, I really do. You would think that being a professional writer would be good, and it was for a while. But you take a hobby and give it a deadline and it is a lot less fun. I don't doubt that that is just my opinion, probably not unique but not as wide spread as it seems to me that it should be.

The phone rings which is nice, if a little unexpected as I have not had a working landline for a while. I pick it up. "Hello?" I say into it.

"Surprised?" a voice asks me.

The voice belongs to the reason that I would use the word almost, and don't just say never. The girl of my dreams, the woman I will love until the day I die. Except that she has a boyfriend, which really just ruins it completely, doesn't it?

She would never be interested in me, a woman, and she is currently tied up.

"I am prepared to admit that I am a little surprised," I tell her.

"But only a little, right, because that is as surprised as you ever get," she says this with great sarcasm, and that is the reason that I love her. She gets me, and no one else does, no one else that I have ever met would have said that with sarcasm.

They all believe it to be true.

"Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I tapped your landline so that I can call it," she says.

"And here I was hoping you had paid my phone bill," I reply, smiling even if she can't see it. "But I have two questions about that: how and why?"

"It is all technical and complicated," she informs me. "But rest assured that it will break soon and I will stop calling your landline. And I did it 'cause I felt like it."

"That makes about as much sense as usual," I tell her. "You were drunk right?"

"No, but it was on a to-do list that I made while drunk," she replies.

"You know that when you are not drunk there is no longer any reason to follow those things, right?" I ask her, not completely sure that she does.

"Yeah, but this one sounded like a challenge, and you know how I like a challenge," she says. I do know how she likes a challenge, significant and pointless.

But I can hear something in her voice, and have been able to hear it since she asked if I was surprised. "Where do you want to meet up?" I ask her, she doesn't like to talk on the phone.

"Usual place," she says. "Sometimes I hate how well you can read me, but this time I don't."

"You only hate it when..." I don't finish that sentence because the end of it is 'when you don't like the sex'. "You are trying to keep a secret." Is how I finish after a considerable pause, I'm sure she knows what I almost said.

"Yeah," she says with little conviction, "see you soon."

She hangs up before I can say goodbye, which she does sometimes, but only when she is upset. I check the time on my computer, six thirty, maybe we can get a drink. I turn everything off and grab my stuff before heading out.

I am not a purse girl, or woman. I only need like three things when I go out, technically more. My wallet, lots of stuff in there, my keys and my phone. And I guess I need my clothes, but they hardly count because I am already wearing them.

I get there first, probably because I live closer. I order the usual, which is different every time, and sit in the booth we usually sit in. She arrives shortly afterward, about five minutes. I stand when I see her, not because she won't find me, but because I want to see all of what she is wearing.

She is wearing the same thing as she always wears and I am as impressed by it as I always am. She is wearing black pants and a white shirt and black shoes. She isn't wearing a fashion item that looks like a shirt, which seem to be taking off, strangely. She is wearing a shirt.

She doesn't have her purse, which is not unusual here, but she has this really cute purse. The only purse I have ever liked. She hugs me when she reaches me, which another reason I always stand up when I see her.

The top of her head seems a little distraught, or maybe it is the tight grip. I am a little ashamed to admit this, but the reason that I think that she is the perfect height, other than my own complex about my height, is that her head is at the same level as my breasts.

She lets me go and gives me a shaky smile.

I like her smile, but this one confirms that there is something wrong. She sits down, and I sit down and she opens her mouth as if to speak but my usual arrives and so she shuts her mouth. A cup of coffee is a hard thing to screw up and saying that this one is screwed up is wrong. But my usual is a cappuccino and that tends to not be what I get.

She opens her mouth again, then looks down and closes it. I reach over and take her hand. "What is wrong?" I ask, trying, and probably failing, to actually seem as concerned as I am.

"Well," she takes her hand back and wipes her eyes, even though she isn't crying.

I immediately know what happened, she liked him a lot, but wasn't so into him. It is more complicated than that. But I know that he broke up with her and not the other way around and that is why she thinks she should be sad.

They had not been doing well for a while, since she realised she didn't like the sex. I have only ever had one boyfriend, and as soon as he wanted sex I left him. Complexes, they are all inside my brain. But that was a good thing.

If I had never met him, I would have never met the girl I met that day and if I hadn't met her I would never have gone to the party where I met the girl in front of me for the first time. And if that had happened I wouldn't have had a place to sit here and I would have gone home and cried into my computer until it told me to leave it alone.

I swear it has done that but only when I was drunk.

Maybe some names are in order. Let's call her Sera, just because it fits how I think about her. And I can be Cara, just because I like the duality. These aren't real names, but real names would take more time. I don't want to waste the time.

And these names are good for the story.

But I won't say it. "What happened?" I ask Sera.

"Well," she starts, her voice a little shaky, "he broke up with me." She tells me.

I had worked that out. "I'm sorry to hear that," I tell her, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. "Are you alright?"

"I think I am," she says. "I thought I would feel worse about it, but I don't."

"Well," I know I need to be delicate, she has been in denial about that relationship for a while, "you two hadn't been getting along as well recently."

"I guess," she says, more like she is just agreeing with me than she actually means it.

She has had trouble with him since they met, a pretty long time ago in university. She has liked him for a long time and she has liked him a lot. But he is not a very likable guy. But now he is gone, which is nice. The three times I actually had to spend time with him were so excruciating that I couldn't do it anymore. My only problem then was concern that Sera would think I didn't like her.

We once went out drinking, we have a few times but this one was important. All she did was drink and bitch about him, which I didn't mind too much. But by the end of the night she just kept saying the same thing over and over. "I wish I could get a good kiss again," she kept saying it in this wistful voice, I gather he wasn't too into kissing.

I was drunk, I even knew it, so not too drunk, and she was drunk, and I knew it. So what I did has always seemed like a bad thing to me, and maybe it was, but she forgot it. I turned to her after she had said it at least a hundred times and grabbed her by the shoulders.

I turned her to me and she shut up. "So you want a good kiss?" I asked her, and she nodded, staring at me. So I gave her one, I kissed her right there, where ever we were, probably at my place. And she looked flustered for a minute before passing out.

We were both pretty drunk but I remembered that and she didn't. Or said she didn't.

I find it hard not to think about that now, now that she has told me that they broke up. She complained about him constantly since I met her. I don't know why I spent much time with her when it was pretty much all she did. But until that night she still enjoyed the sex.

Wait...

Until that night...

Damn am I stupid.

"I guess this means you can find someone who will give you good kisses," I tell her.

She blushes, all over. "Just out of curiosity," she says, "how drunk were you?"

"Drunk enough to kiss you instead of just thinking about it," I tell her. "How drunk were you?"

"Drunk enough to want you to kiss me when you grabbed me," she replies.

"Why did you say you had forgotten?" I ask her.

"I did forget it for a while, and when I remembered I didn't want to ruin our friendship," she tells me, then she looks down at the table. "And I thought it was weird that I wanted you to do it again."

That is interesting. "So you want me to do it again?" I ask her, she keeps looking at the table.

"I do," she says it out loud instead of nodding because she is just that kind of person.

I check the time, quarter past seven. "Do you want to get dinner somewhere?" I ask, partly as a way to change the subject, and because I feel like we should go on an actual date instead of just making out. I don't know why.

"Sure."

So we got dinner, there was little conversation and what there was studiously avoided any topics already mentioned. But after that we went back to my place, because I live nearby. So we were in my house and the way she had blushed comes back to me.

But now I don't know what I am doing, a problem I often have with people. I have never had this problem with Sera before, but I am having it now. "Cara," she says, I like the way she says my name, even if that isn't my name, "do you have anything to drink?"

I often don't as I hardly ever go shopping, but I do today. "Yeah, check the fridge," I tell her.

She comes back with a beer, I don't actually like beer, but I keep some in the house for her. In the same way that she doesn't much like vodka, but keeps some in her house for me. The difference there being that she drinks vodka and I don't drink beer.

But really the only time I drink in my house is when she is here, so that is why I have beer. I don't drink anything but she does and we keep talking about nothing. But after about eleven o'clock I feel the need to ask her something.

"How much of an idiot am I?" I ask her and I haven't even been drinking.

"About the normal amount of idiot," she says, "I don't know that I was completely obvious or anything, and I did stay with a man."

"You did indeed," I look at my hands for a moment. "It's just that I can be a complete idiot when it comes to that sort of thing, noticing people, you know?"

"Hmm," might not be much of a response but it is probably a good response for me.

We don't say anything for a few minutes, she finishes off the beer in her hand.

"You know," she says, looking me right in the eye, "it occurs to me to connect what we were talking about earlier with the fact that I am in your house."

"Probably not a bad thing to connect," I say, just for something to say.

It takes the implication an almost surprisingly long time to sink in, considering the look she is giving me. This time I am the one who blushes. She smiles at me and seeing that look on her face makes me blush even more.

She starts to lean across the table and suddenly a thought occurs, it is the wrong time, very definitely, for this thought to be voiced but that doesn't stop me. "Was I completely obvious?" I ask her.

I had a girlfriend when I first met her, that is how I first met her, but it didn't last all that long after I because friends with Sera. I know why it didn't last long, the girl noticed how I pretty obviously felt about Sera. So maybe I was obvious.

She sits back in her seat and her smile changes into a friendly one. "You were not that obvious," she says, "but it occurs to me that you weren't that subtle either."

"Sorry to kill the mood, but I just needed to ask," I tell her.

She doesn't say anything to that but the smile comes back and she leans quickly across the table and kisses me. She obviously didn't want me to interrupt again, and I think I may have if she had given me any time. But I don't want to stop now that we seem to be getting somewhere.

I kiss her back, but then lean back so that we are separated. "It seems to me that doing this across the table is not ideal," I point out.

She grins and sits back into her seat. I get up and come around the table. I may not know what to do all the time when it comes to people, but what I do know how to do, I am good at. She stands and our height difference just makes her so much cuter as she looks up at me.

I have to lean down to reach her face, but I don't mind, and it is not unusual for me. I have never dated anyone my height or taller, but I have not dated many people either. We stand like that until I feel the need to straighten my body.

I straighten without warning and the look on her face is just amazing.

I pick her up and she squeals like a girl. I carry her to my bed and lay her down. Maybe it will be more comfortable here. She looks up at me and for a moment I want to stay there forever, with that face looking up at me.

But she grabs the back of my head and pulls me down to her, and we kiss. I can feel her hands move from my head to the top of my pants, I guess she knows how to seduce men. I can't really move my hands because if I did I would fall, which would be, understandably, pretty unromantic.

I lean back so that I am pretty much sitting over her, just a little higher than her legs.

"That isn't how it works with women," I tell her, or at least that isn't how I would do it.

I pull my t-shirt over my head and toss it to the floor.

She grins at me and suddenly she is sitting on my stomach kissing me. I have no problem with this, now I can get at her buttons. I undo her shirt and we manage to get it off her without anyone falling, or even having to stop kissing, which is something of an achievement for me.

I run my hands over her bare skin and she shivers. I love the way her skin feels and now I have the opportunity to take advantage of that. I find the back strap on her bra and undo it. She sits up and takes her bra off completely.

I appreciate the view.

She leans forward again and I try to turn us over again. But I go in the wrong direction. The floor is cold, and quite hard, and I land on my back, which is better than landing on Sera, she is smaller than me and it would just be unfair.

We both crack up.

It takes us quite some time to stop laughing, but we manage it.

"Are you alright?" Sera asks me with a massive grin on her face.

"Mostly," I tell her, pretty sure I have the same grin on my face.

"Shall we get back on the bed?" she asks, her smile changing back into the smile she had earlier.

"Maybe not so much rolling this time," I say.

"Probably a good idea," she replies.

We get up and get back on the bed. This time I get to be on top again, she undoes my bra and it joins hers on the ground. She reaches up and pulls my face back down to her. She kisses me and I return the favour, but she has the upper hand, or the lower hand.

I can feel her hands on me, running from my belt up my back to my shoulders, then over my chest and back down again. She reaches into my pants, which I am not sure I am quite ready for. But there is nothing I can do, nothing I want to anyway.

She finishes undoing my pants but from where we are it is difficult to get them off.

I'm not sure that I really want to share all of what happened. But I will say that I love the way she screams my name. And I love the way her hair looks when she wakes up. And I love being able to look right into her eyes the moment she wakes.

And I am so happy that the woman I will love until the day I die loves me back.

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.